


The Voice of Love || Gavin Free/Michael Jones Tell Tale Heart AU

by Blazing_Fire01



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Achievement Hunters, Alternate Universe - No Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter, Edgar Allen Poe, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Mavin, Mavin AU, Rooster Teeth - Freeform, Rooster Teeth references, Team Nice Dynamite, gavin is the voice of reason, michael is a murderer, tell tale heart au, that sort of thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 08:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16405106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blazing_Fire01/pseuds/Blazing_Fire01
Summary: "He had remembered the first time he had seen the asshole. The large, brooding man, who had sat behind the large and heavy oak desk. The King, they had called him. Not just his servants and clients, either.The King saw himself, more or less, as an investment purpose. Those who were without pay, either from being laid off from their jobs, or other unfortunate circumstances, would come to him. The King, as filthy rich as he was from doing...whatever….would help them in one way or another. Offering work, or money in exchange for….other purposes. Whatever the deal may be, The King always pulled through.Until he hadn’t."Gavin has worked for Ryan “The King” Haywood since he was ten. Doing whatever he asked, when he asked. That is...until Michael Jones bursts into his life one fateful day.When both boys realize they share mutual sour stories of the king, Michael turns to a twisted solution to an otherwise twisted agreement. After killing The King, Michael believes that both his, and the handsome Gavin’s problems are solved. But will Gavin acting as a voice of reason and good will convince him to admit to his crimes?





	The Voice of Love || Gavin Free/Michael Jones Tell Tale Heart AU

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm a long time fic writer, but this is my first RT fic! I'm really looking forward to writing it! Don't forget to comment and give kudos! 
> 
> Also, if you ever want to discuss theories, other AU's, or have fan art for this AU, you can find me on Tumblr @snap-crackle-n-stop!

He had remembered the first time he had seen the asshole. The large, brooding man, who had sat behind the large and heavy oak desk. The King, they had called him. Not just his servants and clients, either. 

The King saw himself, more or less, as an investment purpose. Those who were without pay, either from being laid off from their jobs, or other unfortunate circumstances, would come to him. The King, as filthy rich as he was from doing...whatever….would help them in one way or another. Offering work, or money in exchange for….other purposes. Whatever the deal may be, The King always pulled through.

Until he hadn’t. 

Michael had walked all the way across town in the beating rain. The collar of his coat was pulled up all the way over his head in attempts to keep himself dry. As he approached the mansion, his nerves only seemed to grow. 

The brunette inhaled some, walking across the courtyard before knocking on the large double doors. 

As he waited, Michael couldn’t help but look around, tense. The mansion was the biggest building he had ever seen. The King’s estate was at least five times the size. Enough room to keep all of his servants. The building was made from brick, with vines growing across the walls. Due to the cold front coming, most of the leaves on the vines were wilted to colors such as orange, yellow, red, or even brown. The cold marble of the giant staircase had very few cracks in the surface, despite the rumor that the estate was at least a century old. 

Michael’s gaze moved to the door as he saw it swing open from the corner of his eye. Holding the door open was a tall, thin blonde. His hair was shaggier, but combed back out of his face. He had very light facial hair, as if he was trying to grow in a beard that couldn’t quite grow in yet. He was handsome, in an almost ruggish way, with blue, almost nervous looking eyes. Michael fell silent while staring at the stranger. 

“Can I help you?” The male spoke up, frowning some. He had an accent that Michael easily assumed was from Europe.

The brunette cleared his throat, gazing up at the other. “I’m here to speak to Haywood,” he said, trying to keep his voice level. 

“Hay.. oh, you mean The King,” the other smiled some, his hand resting on the doorframe. “I’m assuming you’re his eleven o’clock?” He asked. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess. That’s me,” Michael nodded. 

“Follow me,” the blonde stepped aside. Michael cautiously obliged, walking in and looking around. 

As if it were even possible, the inside of the mansion was even bigger than the outside. The hallways were adorned with red runners and dark drapes. The theme of darker colors and the haunting portraits on the walls that were lit by candles gave the entire place a creepy, haunted feel to it. 

Michael stayed close to the other, looking around. There were occasional servants bustling around, all giving him cautious and worried looks. They looked almost pitiful. As if they felt sorry for him and wanted to warn him to turn back now. 

“I don’t suppose you’re looking for work, are you? You don’t have to answer that, it’s just that this morning our message boy was found out back with three bullets through the chest, so it’s safe to say we’re looking for a new one,” the blonde spoke up. The sudden noise in the otherwise silent hallway made Michael jump.

“Not exactly, but I’ll be sure to let my friends know,” he spoke slowly, clearly weirded out. 

“I’m Gavin, by the way...a right hand to The King, or more or less just an advisor,” he spoke quickly. 

“I’m Michael. So, listen, do these meetings usually last l-” Michael was cut off by sobs coming from inside one of the doors, a young woman throwing it open and running out. Inside stood a tall, calm looking man. He was large, especially compared to Michael, with a thorough beard and almost stout posture. Even from across the office, Michael felt the man’s icy blue gaze staring into him. 

“Your highness,” Gavin stood in front of Michael quickly, almost defensively. “Your eleven o’clock appointment is here.” 

The King. Michael should have known. 

“Send him in,” Ryan Haywood’s voice seemed to echo throughout the office. 

 

“Of course, sir,” Gavin maneuvered behind Michael, putting a hand on his back and shoving him into the room. “Can I get you anything?” 

“I’m sure we wouldn’t mind some tea, it is nearly lunch,” The King mused. 

Gavin nodded quickly. “Right away, sir!” With that, the blonde rushed off

Was it just Michael or was Gavin almost….afraid of The King?

Michael found himself frozen where he stood, slowly taking in the aura of the office, then slowly looked over to the larger male who was staring at him expectantly. 

“What can I do for you, son?” The King demanded. 

"I....uh...." Michael cleared his throat, walking further into the room and looking the man in the eye. "I come on behalf of my father," he muttered. "A month and a half ago, he was killed while on the job here. He had been working as a stableman when we had been told that he had been killed by being trampled by a few run away horses," he continued, trying to sound strong. 

"I see....and what's your last name, young man?" The King quarreled.

"Jones," Michael uttered. "But that's not important. I'm here to question the fact of my father's last payment. We should have received it weeks ago but have yet to see it."

"And what do you expect me to do about this, Mr Jones?" 

"Michael, please. And I would expect you to hand over my father's last payment," Michael said with determination. 

"If I remember correctly, your father was killed the day that payroll was do. He hadn't worked enough to receive anymore pay." 

"He was killed on a Tuesday. I'm well aware of the fact that you pay your staff every Thursday, Mr Haywood," Michael growled. 

The king looked to the other, highly amused. 

"What do you do for a living, Mr. Jones?" 

"I don't believe that that's any of your business, Haywood," Michael said, dropping any formalities. 

"I see. Well, I'm afraid that your father's position has already been filled. However, I'm sure we could find you a separate job, if you're really in need of pay." 

"I'm not in need of any type of pay. My family was already living off one payment a week. Every little bit counts," Michael raised his voice. 

"I see," The King hummed. "So you need to become the breadwinner now, am I correct? Assuming by the fact that you're here, you're the eldest child, or at least son. So now you're in position to be bringing some sort of pay home."

"You have no right to be assuming anything," Michael pointed out. 

The King approached the boy, walking around him. Circling him. Inspecting him as if he were some sort of prey. It made Michael feel weak and vulnerable. Nervous. 

"If you think that there's any way that I'm going to agree to work for you, you're crazier than anyone speaks of." 

"Oh? People speak of my madness, eh?" Haywood put a firm hand on Michael's shoulder, making him tense. "They speak of my madness as if they wouldn't take it in exchange for my fortune, am I right? So much they could have, all for the price of sanity that's not truly gone yet?" 

Michael shoved off the other's grip, glaring some. "What are you getting on about, you lunatic?" He snapped. 

Haywood blinked before giving a small smirk. "All I'm saying, Michael, is that you took the time to call and speak with my servants to make an appointment with me to seek out money. Money that I don't owe you. But here I am, offering you a new way to make more money than you same seeking, yet you don't take it. So who's really the insane one here?" 

"I'm not here for a job," Michael's voice shook slightly. "I'm here for the money you owe my family." 

The King looked ready to speak again before there was a new knock on the office door and Gavin had peeked his head in, looking to the two with slightly wide eyes. He was carrying a tea tray, adorned with brightly colored scones and a floral tea pot. The King's grin grew unsettling. Michael stared at Gavin with wide eyes. 

Gavin cleared his throat. "I'm terribly sorry and do hope I'm not interrupting anything, but the tea..."

"You're just fine, Mr Free. Please, come in. I was just discussing a job offer with Mr. Jones," Haywood said with a low tone. 

Gavin slowly looked over to Michael with a slightly worried expression, as if silently asking 'are you okay?' Despite this, the blonde walked in, setting the tray down and readying two cups, pouring tea in them and passing them to both Ryan and Michael before getting ready to walk back out. 

"Hold on, Mr Free," Ryan spoke up, staring at his assistant. Tensing some, Gavin turned, eyeing his boss warily. 

The clear, weirdly toned tension between the two was enough to make even Michael uncomfortable. 

"Have a seat," The King gestured towards the desk. 

Gavin tensed a bit more. "Sir, your twelve o'clock--" He started. Michael noticed the dark, twisted look The King gave Gavin, making the blonde blink slowly, rushing towards the free chair beside Michael. 

Michael looked between the two, squinting some. "I don't believe his presence is necessary for discussing such private matters." 

"Gavin, we have jobs available here for Mr Jones, correct?" Ryan looked down at the two. 

Gavin bit his lip, looking to Michael before giving a firm nod. "In multiple sections, sir..." He started.

"Perfect," The King muttered. "Find the perfect job to keep him busy."


End file.
